Ravish
by texture spray
Summary: I'll ravish you. That's my job. A cunning Malfoy, a gullible son, an involved potions master, a young girl with a heart for a muggle. Love, lust, sex, betrayal, drugs; Art just is.
1. setting a ground

A slight caress and a flash of light. Her lips were pursed together in a satisfied smile as she flung herself in different poses for better angles, positions, and pleasure for her partner. They enjoyed the time they had together. Another flash of light sparkled her eyes as she let out a sigh of relief, the deed had been accomplished. The photographer stepped out from behind his camera on the tri-stand and walked over. There was nothing like the relationship between an artist and his model. He was depicting over every inch of her body; every flaw, every curve, every satisfying texture and displayable rhythm. He was capturing glimpses of her soul to present to the world; with both her name and his upon it. "Gorgeous, as usual. I'll see you again for our next session, what magazine was that one to be for?"

"Witch Weekly," her strawberry lips replied with a slight intriguing smack at the end. She grabbed her pea coat and purse, slinging the designer bag over her shoulder, before strutting out of the studio and putting her sunglasses on as she entered the busy streets of Hogsmeade. It was her cover, her flaw. She bought the best simply to please her family. She pretended she was the confident, gorgeous being everyone thought her to be. Inside her stomach was spinning to a thousand drum beats. She wanted to run, and not stop until she was back in France.

Her eyes fell upon the swirling bodies and packages and faces as they skimmed past her. She loved the smell of summer and the faces of shoppers enjoying the mildly-warm afternoon away from the bustle of their daily lives. It was poetry in motion, it was life, it was everything and anything; the exact terminology of art. It was. A glance at an overlooking clock tower told her it was well past two-in-the-afternoon, and she would be meeting her father at a local pub that everyone seemed to have highly recommended. She recalled the name had a three in it, but she couldn't figure out the rest.

Pausing by an old lady selling all kinds of enchanted long-stem roses of various colours, she bothered to ask; "Miss, would you be able to tell me where a pub by the name of Three something would be located?" The old lady, noticing her thick French accent, regarded her with a frigid answer; "The Three Broomsticks? Up the road a few paces and on your left." Her wrinkled face turned away, acknowledging the fact of her distaste for the young woman not wanting to buy a flower. Adrin hesitated before pulling out several sickles and handing them to the lady, taking an enchanted black rose. With a full smile, she nodded to the vendor and was off on her mission. Her mission to self destruct, she thought bitterly.

The smell of butter beer and freshly baked bread came flooding her senses when she walked into the small but homely pub. She was led to a room in the back with a table and a lounging area where her father was smoking cigars like a mad man. "Hello, papa," Adrin leaned down and kissed her father on both cheeks before hanging her jacket up on the coat rack and plopping down across from him. Her long dark auburn hair cascaded down her back in layers, recently cut by a famous hair 'designer' back in France, her hair's texture was a slight wave of curls that faded to straight ends. Her pale olive complexion set off her sparkling green eyes which were surrounded by thick black eyelashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows, all held together by a facial structure to die for. The very reason for her being displayed across all of the wizarding world's fashion magazines, and a fair amount of muggle ones. Another fake commodity of her existence. Her entire being was built on this palace of fake smiles and to-die-for new designer clothes, pearls, and the best fragrances money could buy.

Adrin's father was a self-made business man, with enough money to live as good as, if not better than, the Malfoy's. The L'Vour family was a pristine one that reached back many generations of wealth and power, previously residing in France, before Thomas L'Vour struck an opportunity in London that he just couldn't pass up. Besides, his daughter would be attending the best school in all of Europe, Hogwarts. This was the reason he presented to the questions asked about his drastic move. A white lie to cover up, of course. Adrin was 19 and would be starting as a 7th year due to the difference of cultures. School in France started later than those of England, at least her pristine all-girl boarding school for building young witches started later. She dreaded it, knowing that she would be forced to constantly plaster a fake smile. She wanted more than anything just to turn and run, to get away, to flee from this life she had been cursed with. Why couldn't she have been a poor working muggle? Why couldn't she be a servant girl….

"Darling," her father started after he finished his last cigar, "I've arranged for you to stay in a wonderfully furnished apartment until the start of the new school term. Your house elf, Daisy, is already there waiting for you to stumble in. She has made everything the way you would want it, and I have had all of your belongings transferred there." Adrin knew her father had already purchased a lovely place in London. Her mother, being deceased since she was 3 years old, would not accommodate him there; but in her place was a frigid lady whom was obviously after her daddy's money. Their marriage was scheduled to be over the Christmas holidays, leaving Adrin exactly 5 months to find someone more suitable for her loving Papa. Why did she care to save her dad from the disaster of a marriage that would never work? Simply the fact that her life would be even more unbearable with that…that _woman_ as her step-mother.

A lovely lady interrupted their conversation with a warm smile. Her face was beautiful, a frame of long pale blonde hair and light blue eyes. A gentleman was next to her, his arm around her waste almost roughly. He, too, had the same pale blonde hair. But his face was in a cold structure, with harsh cruel silver eyes. Her father stood, obviously knowing who they were from the start, leaving her to watch the scene unfold in front of her. She was the photographer now, the artist, the detective. "Ah, Mister and Misses Malfoy. A pleasure," he shook both of their hands before presenting Adrin to them. "This is my daughter, Adrin Dream L'Vour." Adrin stood and curtsied slightly, a small timid smile playing on her lips. Lucius Malfoy's eyes caressed her skin, making her fill dirty and unclean. Pig, she thought bitterly.

"My wife, Narcissca," He presented, "Our son Draco could not tag along with us, he's currently training with his private coach for the Quidditch season this year. Hopefully, these extra lessons will help the Slytherins beat the Gryffindors, once and for all."

Her thoughts swirled at the light conversation that was taking place. She wasn't fully present in the room, nodding slightly to acknowledge her response to the conversation. Her heart was on the previous events of the summer. The stable boy at their home back in France, his drawings displaying her laughing as she rode her white mare around in the arena. Those eyes, oh how she longed to look into them again. Part of her knew the move was to get her infatuation to stop. Her father had struck her down one night after discovering them in the barn, her blouse open and skirts lifted, love bites making firm outlines on her neck and collar bone. The boy had been thrown out, told to never come back again.

They both betrayed his orders. Adrin would meet the stable boy at least once a week by the pond on the south end of the ranch. "I love you," he whispered huskily into her ear before kissing the nape of her neck, the small bits of hair there tickling his upper lip. Adrin leaned her back against his chest, taking one of his hands and sliding it into the front of her night dress, moving with him as he began his light caress over the tops of her breasts. They made plans of escape, where they would ride off into the sunset together; never to be bothered by her father's retched narrow mind again.

This had failed, of course, and here she was…what seemed a world away from her heart. She sat, sipping tea with fake smiles towards fake people. Her fake life would rumble on, but she would forever be lost in the fact that her true desires were left back with a commoner, a non-magical muggle, a stable boy. She bit her lower lip, biting back the tears that threatened to spill over. After an hour, she was walking down the cobble streets with the key to her new apartment. She was no longer captivated by the scenes around herself, all she could think of was crying on Daisy's shoulders.

And that's exactly what she did. Daisy simply placed a pudgy hand upon her cheek before continuing to bathe her mistress. "You be fine, Miss. You'll sees!" Her optimism was like ten thousand knives of guilt all along one thin line of her spine. Her servant, her slave for life, a being that had no life of its own…was telling _herself _that she would be fine. She sighed and laid back against the porcelain wall of the tub, letting herself sink down into the water.

Here's to being fine. Her chest heaved in the final sobs before she pulled herself together and accepted the towel offered to her, sitting down on the chair while the house elf busied herself with combing through her misses' long tresses of hair. She had two weeks to prepare herself for her arrival at the school. Two weeks to mend her severely broken heart. Two weeks to try to act like a normal teenage girl. Two weeks….


	2. chin up, love

Adrin sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. It was requested by the Headmaster that she attend the ritual of riding the train to Hogwarts, even though she could have easily tracked up there from Hogsmeade. It probably had something to do with her meeting the students before arrival, although she was avoiding meeting anyone as much as possible. She laid her forehead against the glass of the window, watching as students kissed their parents goodbye and ran onto the train. Her father hadn't been present to send her off. He never was around for her. She sighed to herself, running her hand over the smooth leather wrapped around the pages of her journal. The compartment door slid open and in stepped a man with the hair of night, black and glimmering. His eyes were the same color, full of loathing and disappointment in the fact that the world just couldn't spin quickly enough for him. Adrin gave him one look and then went back to the previous state, her mind swollen from two weeks of moping about; letting herself go to a disastrous state.

"Considering your compartment is the only one remotely empty, and the fact that I am the professor chosen to be forced to endure the ride with these overly excited students, may I ask of you to allow me to join yourself?" She took in a sharp breath, expecting to be alone through this part of her journey. She nodded without looking at the stranger, concentrating on the way her breath formed patches of condensation on the window.

"My name is Professor Snape. I'm the Potions Master, and head of the Slytherin House," Snape paused, studying the girl's side profile. He knew an ungodly amount about the girl already. Lucius spoke of her at the Deatheater meetings, promising their 'Master' that she would be a perfect match for Draco. He tensed slightly, wanting to spat at the girl for being another soon-to-be Slytherin whore. He wanted to yell at her and give her a detention for not paying attention to the words he spoke. She finally looked at him, her eyes hollow and emotionless. So, so much like Draco's. "I suspect you are Miss L'Vour from France. With that, I bid you welcome to Hogwarts and I shall escort you today to the proper places and such as the Welcome Back Feast commences." Snape snarled and Adrin flinched.

You poor soul, I see right through your act of loathing. You're a lonely man with no life ahead of you, and no past behind. You're torn apart at the idea and appalled at the thought of actually caring about yourself. Adrin sympathized in her head, molding over the snarls and loathing glances one of her Professors was already giving her. Yet again, she was panged with irony; here she was feeling sorry for a man - when she herself was going to be the exact replica of him someday. She sighed and let her eyes flutter shut, her cheek cool against the glass of the window. She was trying to force herself to melt through, vanishing out of the train and onto the green countryside. Perhaps she could find a home and ask for work…she could be a stable girl, a cook, a peasant….

Her hand was captured and her body pulled against his, firm and soft all at once. She laughed and kissed him swiftly. "Oh, Charles, I thought you wouldn't make it tonight. I was afraid I would be watching the stars fall by myself." The boy smiled and picked her up, spinning around, before returning her back to Earth. They both collapsed back in the dewy meadow, the boy on top of her. Her white top was quickly removed as she struggled with the buttons on the boy's trousers; hardness already pressing against her, only the clothing keeping them from being connected. He rained kisses upon her bare chest, sprinkling down between her breasts to her navel where he nipped slightly at her tummy before sliding her knickers out from under her skirt. Leaning over her, his weight supported on his arms, he slowly entered. Their bodies were at best when one, their hearts beating together.

Adrin panted in her sleep, a trickle of sweat running down her forehead, her body shuddering. The potions master raised an eyebrow and bitterly cursed the fact that he was in a compartment with a teenage girl undergoing an orgasm from a dream; no doubt about some shag fest with Draco Malfoy. The train came to an abrupt stop with Adrin sliding to the ground of the compartment, a thud echoing in her ears as she awoke from where she never wanted to leave.

Snape rolled his eyes annoyingly as he watched the girl straighten herself up, oblivious to her little show. Another dreadful Narcissca with endless amounts of beauty, rich jewels and gold draped around her, the finest silks clinging to her perfect skin….He shook himself out of that thought and onto the next. He observed the girl for the first time, fully taking in her presence. She wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans, the shirt displaying some sort of Spanish club name with a dancer on the front. Adrin was not playing the part of rich snob-of-a-girl very well, he mused.

"You better put on your Hogwarts robes. We have arrived and students will be expecting you to make some glamorous entrance…not to show up like a bored muggle teen," Snape headed towards the door of the compartment, "I'll be just outside the door."

Adrin scurried about as she prepared herself for her dramatic entrance. Here you are, on the steps of the theatre that will hold the Oscars this year. Your gown is pressed and sparkling with delight, your hair is an array of beautiful tendrils cascading down your back. You are flawless, you are a star. Your French indie film about the lives of struggling artists was a smash hit, sending you rushing forward into the limelight. As she finished her last cosmetic spells, she flung the door open and stepped out.

Ah, there's that princess of Hogwarts. Snape noticed the ever-expensive robes made of the finest material. Just like Draco Malfoy's. The perfect face, hair, glowing skin, all down to her new shoes of the finest. He wanted to bid a welcome-back to Narcissca Malfoy, but he bit his tongue and escorted her to Hogwarts.

She sat nervously underneath the hat, her toes tapping with the beat of her ever-increasingly fast heartbeat. Please, if you put me in Slytherin it will save me a world of trouble…I'll be dead if I get in Gryffindor, it has been forbidden by my father. What about Ravenclaw, or even Hufflepuff? She shook her head. Those would put shame to my family. It's expected of me, you have to understand… It's all I'm asking. Please, please….

"Slytherin!" The musty hat yelled out, a light applause coming from the table of the most-hated on the campus. She walked briskly over and took her spot beside Draco, a slight smile to those welcoming her. Whispers around the room were abruptly stopped as Albus Dumbledore concluded the sorting and the tables filled with the scrumptious feast.

Ron Weasley was busy giving the information he had discovered over the summer. "She's from France, her family the same as the Malfoy's in every aspect except for the fact that her mother is dead. Dad has said that Mister L'Vour is said to fund Volde…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's ambitions." Ginny Weasley chimed in with more details,

"She's done fashion shoots for both muggle _and _wizarding magazines. No one knows why her father abruptly decided to leave France, the delicatessen of fashion design and art, but rumor has it that she was sleeping around with some muggle boy that served at the family's ranch!" Obviously, Ginny was wooed by the love-story aspect. Hermione and Harry exchanged the same glances, noting how miserable this year would be if two Malfoys were to be present to make their lives a living hell. Not to mention the fact that Harry's scar had been inflamed for over a year now, the power coursing through Voldemort's veins becoming increasingly stronger as the days trudged on.

"So," Pansy Parkinson glowered at the girl, "what's it like in France?" Adrin's back stiffened, knowing that jealous glare too much. She adjusted the napkin in her lap and smiled warmly at the girl. "The people are much nicer, the atmosphere is more...pleasant," if there was one thing, she wasn't going to let some snobby little brat push her around. Draco interrupted, sensing a cat-fight commencing and started prep-talks about the up coming Quidditch season. A nice save of violence, she noted, wanting to thank him later.

Their rooms were stone cold, furnished in beds made from black rods, with silver and green coverings and pillows. It was breathtakingly gorgeous, with a dangerous atmosphere. She had sent herself to this year of hell, where teamwork was just a term to get what you, personally, wanted; through manipulating those around you to help you get it. Being a Slytherin was an art in itself. There was a certain pace in which conversations rhythmically beat; a certain air you held yourself in; and a certain act you constantly portrayed. Adrin had to learn it fast or she would fall into a bottomless pit that would consume her even more than she already was. She lay back against the downy pillows, letting herself relax for once in the peace and quiet. Loud music was playing in the common rooms below, no doubt some sort of party to bring in the new school year. She knew she would have to make a presence, but not quite yet.

She pursed her lips together and applied a little more pearly pink lip gloss to her luscious strawberry lips. She adjusted the sparkling faded green top she was wearing with her fairly tight-fitting black slacks, and headed down the spiraling stone steps to the common room where the party awaited her. The music ran into the walls of her ears almost painfully, and the air was filled with the smell of smoke and sex. A glass of red wine was shoved in her hand and she was immediately swept into the arms of a very drunk Draco Malfoy. She took a sip of her wine and took a step back, portraying an air of superiority about her, without the act of a prude.

"My father has told me a great lot about you," Draco slurred drunkenly in her ear. "Your dad and mine have great plans for our future together, the dark lord will be thrilled when I take you and bed you as my wife….." Adrin caught her tongue in a death grip between her teeth and licked her lips bitterly. She focused her attention on the fireplace to her right, not trusting herself to hold in her anger if she dared a glimpse at the egotistical bastard before her. Charles, Charles, Charles….her mind repeated over and over in her head. She felt a hand around her waist and she was pulled into a sticky kiss, she bit down on Draco's lip painfully, forcing him to pull back, giving her enough time to sweep away dramatically and bay her goodbyes as she glided up the stairs to her quarters and snuggled down into the cold mattress covers. She accioed a couple deep red pills from her purse and she was out before anyone could rudely yank her back down to the party. Her last thoughts forming a plan to keep herself constantly drugged and intoxicated, if that was what it would take to keep her virginity firmly intact.


End file.
